Please watch the children, Maudie
by leiamoo
Summary: One-shot; missing scene from movie. When Atticus and Jem leave to tell Helen Robinson about Tom's death, Maudie stays at the house with Scout & Dill. Just an idea of what might have happened. Hints of future Atticus/Maudie.


Atticus made his way down the street, approaching his house. Jem, Scout, and Dill followed behind him, and the group as a whole reminded Maudie of a funeral procession. They looked as if they were returning from war, and all their friends has perished. Even Scout's usual bounce was absent- the young girl walked heavily and with purpose, seeming to want nothing else but to reach her home and stay there forever.

"Atticus?" Maudie called as she crossed the street. He turned away from the children who continued until they reached the porch, then sat dejectedly on the steps. Atticus removed his hat and crossed the remaining distance between them. She had never seen him look so exhausted. There was nothing she could say to him which would convey the deep pain she'd felt upon learning of the verdict. So she said the only thing she could manage.

"I'm sorry."

Atticus opened his mouth to respond, perhaps to console her, to tell her it wasn't time to worry yet, but he did not have the chance. Heck Tate pulled up in his car and asked to speak with Atticus in private. Maudie nodded and made her way over to the porch. She sat down next to Jem and did her best to explain what she did not herself understand.

When Mr. Tate pulled away and Atticus slowly approached them, Maudie knew something was terribly wrong.

"Tom Robinson is dead."

The rest of his words were a blur as Maudie (and Scout, she noticed) fought to rid their eyes of the tears which simply would not stop. Atticus said he needed to go visit Tom's family and deliver the bad news. He left Maudie with Scout and Dill.

Once the night became still and the group had remained motionless for at least half an hour, Scout lifted her head from her hands. She sighed.

"Why don't we go sit in the living room. Jem's got some new comics we haven't read yet.. Her suggestion was rational, but Maudie could tell optimism had barely won the battle by her quivering voice.

They relocated lazily into the living room, where Scout and Dill sprawled on he floor with a comic book each. They pretended to read them while Maudie thoughtfully perused the large bookshelf in the corner.

She settled on _Pride and Prejudice_ , a book she'd never liked, simply because she was surprised to find it on Atticus' shelf. Did the quiet, reserved gentleman enjoy romantic novels? She caught herself before she accidentally rolled her eyes, and crossed the room to the old rocking chair by the window.

Settling herself, she opened the book and began to read, all the while noticing Scout's head repeatedly nodding toward the floor in exhaustion.

"Jean Louise, you may go to bed if you wish. Don't let us keep you."

"No'm, I'll stay up 'til Atticus gets home, it it's okay with you."

Maudie gave her a small smile. "Of course it's okay with me. Would you like to read with me?" she asked.

Scout hurriedly shot across the room into Maudie's lap. She found a position which seemed comfortable for both of them—her legs trailing to the side of the older woman's knees, Scout nestled in between Maudie's thigh and the arm of the chair, her head resting lightly on the woman's soft shoulder.

"Here, I'll start. Pride and… what's that word?"

"Prejudice," Maudie responded after a moment of silence. "Prejudice," she repeated, quietly to herself, and shook her head almost imperceptibly. I was prejudice that had gotten Atticus and Tom Robinson and Bob Ewell and Jem and Scout into this mess. Prejudice was the reason these kids weren't tucked in bed with their father home safe. Prejudice took Tom's life and now Helen and the Robinson children would have no father.

Scout made it through the first ten pages of their book, and Maudie fell asleep soon after. Maudie's arms were wrapped comfortably around Scout, and Scout smiled into the older woman's hair, which always smelled like honeysuckle.

This was the way Atticus and Jem discovered them upon returning from their dire errand.

Atticus paused in the front hall and watched them fondly. He knew Scout had grown close to Maudie, especially during these last few years as Jem distanced himself. He was encouraged by the lessons Scout brought home from their neighbor – lessons about being a lady which, frankly, Atticus found baffling. He was grateful to Maudie for providing Scout a solid, grounded role model she could trust and relate to.

As he stood in the doorway, he noticed Maudie shift in her sleep. She tightened her arms around Scout.

"Jem, please help Dill into your room for bed. I'll get Scout." Atticus decided it would be more trouble to send Dill back to Rachel's house, and he might as well get a partial night's sleep here.

As he watched his son scoop the younger boy up and lead him down the hall, Atticus approached the rocking chair where Maudie and Scout were sound asleep. He awkwardly shifted himself from side to side, wondering how best to disentangle them from each other without waking either up. He rubbed Scout's back for a moment, then leaned down and wrapped one arm around the little girl's shoulders and the other beneath her knees. While doing so, he found himself inches from Maudie's face. Atticus had not been this close to her since they were children, playing together every day at Finch's Landing. The teenage years had separated them as he spent his time buried in books and she was shuffled off to become a proper lady.

She was just as beautiful at fifty as she had been at fifteen.

Atticus sighed and slowly straightened, removing his daughter from Maudie's lap. He turned away from the rocking chair and carried Scout down the hall to her room.

Upon returning, Atticus found himself in a dilemma. Would it be better to wake Maudie or leave her be? He shuddered to think of Miss Stephanie or Miss Rachel seeing Maudie emerge from the Finch house in the morning. The rumors would make a sailor blush. He also feared what Maudie would do to him if she were disturbed. Atticus wondered if her right hook was just as powerful now as it had been all those years ago, and smiled at the memory of his aching cheek.

For the present time, he decided not to decide. He picked up a copy of _Pride and Prejudice_ from the floor next to his rocking chair. Perhaps Scout had been reading it. He opened to the first page and made himself comfortable.

When Maudie awoke, the first thing she noticed was the absence of Scout. She jerked up and called abruptly, "Jean Louise!"

Atticus, who had also fallen asleep, snapped awake on the couch. Observing Maudie in her distressed state, he sat up and leaned forward.

"I put her to bed. She's all right."

Maudie visibly relaxed. Atticus gave her a small smile, which she returned.

"Well, Atticus, you might have woken me up instead of letting me nap away in your creaky old rocker!" she said, as if she were deeply offended at this treatment. His smile grew until it almost reached his eyes, and probably would have if not for the day's events.

"I weighed my options and found this to be the least painful."

"Least painful for whom? I'll have a knot in my neck for weeks!"

"Oh, you'll be fine. Just come sit on the couch." Atticus would never speak to a lady like this, and Maudie took comfort in the fact that he was only candid when he was with her. She stood, approached the couch, and settled herself a comfortable distance from him, pulling her ankles up to tuck them beneath her legs.

They sat in heavy yet amiable silence for long minutes.

"What can I do to help Helen Robinson?" she finally asked timidly. Somehow, she thought all her normal ways would not help in this instance. She could bake cakes for days on end, but it would not ease the ache of a murdered husband.

He breathed in and out, swallowed, sniffed twice, and lifted his hand up to rub his eyes. It was only then that she realized he was trying to fight back tears. They slipped unbidden down both of his cheeks, and he quickly wiped them away, sniffing again.

Maudie immediately slid closer to him on the couch. She inhaled, pausing for a moment to worry whether she was insane, and then did something she had never done in her whole life: she took a man's hands in her own. Maudie wrapped her hands around Atticus' shaking ones and brought them down to rest in his lap. He closed his eyes, trying to will the tears from them, but they continued.

"Let them come, Atticus. Tears don't hurt people – they heal them."

He nodded so slightly that she would not have noticed it without being directly in front of him. He slowly regained control of his breathing and after a few moments she felt his hands tighten around hers.

"Thank you, Maudie," he said, and she tried to give him a smile but couldn't quite manage it through the tears which had found their way to her eyes as well.

They say like that, hands connected, staring at each other on the couch, until the clock in the hallway dinged three times. Could it be that late? The day had dragged on for so long it seemed unbearable, but the night was proving even longer.

"I should be getting home," Maudie finally said, meeting his gaze and yet not moving away. She could not deny the fact that his hands felt good in hers. They felt solid and comfortable, and she dreaded the moment when she had to let them go.

Atticus seemed to come out of a trance at her words. He blinked a few times, then responded, "Ehm, yes, of course. I will walk you home."

He let go of one of her hands so he could stand, then pulled her up with him. Still connected, they made their way out the front door and across the moonlit yard.

All too soon, they arrived at Maudie's front steps. She sighed and turned to wish him a good night as she had many nights before, but noticed his face was turned upward toward the sky.

Following his gaze, she managed to spot the shooting star just before it disappeared from view. He must've felt her smile, because he turned to her and cocked his head.

"Shooting star. Did you make a wish?"

She sighed. "No. I don't believe that star could help me with much of anything, Atticus. Did you?"

"I most certainly did."

Maudie waited with her eyebrows raised, curious as to what type of wish a man like him would make. He just squeezed her hand one final time before letting go and turning to walk home.

"I'll tell you someday," he called back over his shoulder. She could hear that smile in his voice, and she thought he walked with a spring in his step like a much younger man.


End file.
